


Unwelcome Advances

by icandrawamoth



Series: I'm Lovin' It Verse [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Food Service, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, McDonald's, Social Anxiety, protective!Courf, verbal sexual harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan was nervous enough about having to work front counter before the creep showed up. (tw: verbal sexual harassment)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwelcome Advances

**Author's Note:**

> This one was inspired by Actual McDonald's Experience. Some prick actually said almost these exact words to one of my female coworkers. Yeah.

Jehan doesn’t like to work front counter. It’s not that it’s more difficult than the grill area. No, that’s not it. He wouldn’t mind the difference, except that people make him nervous. When he has to talk to customers face to face, taking orders and handing them out, he invariably makes some small error that turns him into a blushing, stumbling over his words mess. Valjean knows this, and usually he wouldn’t make Jehan do it, but they’re shorthanded tonight since two people called in sick and they couldn’t find anyone else to come in. The manager is back in the office drawing up next week’s schedule, Courfeyrac and Pierre are on assembly and grill, and Joly, the only other person trained on front counter, is trying to fix the broken shake machine.

It’s not all bad. It’s nearly ten, which means it’s basically dead, only the occasional driver wandering in from the truckstop next door. Jehan is wiping the counter between the registers, getting up his nerve, determined not to botch the next order, when he sees the man enter from the corner of his eye and looks up. Fortyish, in worn bluejeans, a red flannel shirt, and a ball cap bearing the name of his company, he looks just like any other trucker Jehan has seen.

The boy moves to the register and gives the man his friendliest smile. “Hello, welcome to McDonald’s.” Proudly, he says the required lines without the barest tremor in his voice. “What can I get for you?”

The man is staring at his mouth. Something prickles in the back of Jehan’s mind, but he pushes it down. Maybe the trucker is hard of hearing? “Sir?” he presses when he doesn’t give his order after another few moments.

“Number one,” the man says, not moving his eyes.

“All right,” Jehan says, punching the order into the computer. “Will that be all?” The man nods. “Your total is six sixty-four. Is that for here or to go?”

“To go,” the trucker answers as he swipes his credit card, and Jehan turns to put the order together when he suddenly adds, “You’re pretty.”

Jehan’s face flares red. He doesn’t know what to say; certainly not the words repeating in his head, That’s inappropriate. His mouth hangs open awkwardly as he tries to figure out what to do. He can’t just turn away and ignore the man. His eyes flick over to where Joly is wiping chocolate shake mix off the floor, oblivious to the conversation. Likewise the others, who can’t hear from the back. But it was compliment, right? In lieu of anything else, he’s about to mutter a thank you when the man continues.

“And that mouth, _damn_. I’d love to get my dick in that.”

Pure horror and shock slam into Jehan, and he backs quickly away, running into the counter behind him with a loud rattle. _Oh, God, he really just said that. What do I do?_ The man is smirking at him, and he can’t – he has to get away from him.

“Get him his order,” he says to a confused-looking Joly as he scrambles toward the back of the store. Breathing harsh, he goes to the break closet, as the employees have dubbed their little alcove, and takes a drink from the water bottle he always keeps there. _Calm down,_ he tells himself. _So the guy’s a creep, he said something he shouldn’t have, but he didn’t hurt you. It’s okay. You’re okay._ He tries to calm his breathing.

After a minute or two he feels a little more calm, and enough time has passed that the guy should be gone. He ventures out and walks toward the front again. Courfeyrac gives him a questioning look from the grill area, but now there’s a small rush and no time to talk as Pierre sets out sandwich wrappers and buns and Courfeyrac works to assemble the food.

As soon as Jehan and Joly have served all the customers and sent them on their way, Courfeyrac is leaning on the barrier between their parts of the store. “What happened?” he asks. “You look upset.”

Jehan can’t help but smile a bit at his boyfriend’s protectiveness, but it dies quickly as he dredges up the words the man had said to him and tells he and Joly. Their faces match what he imagines his own looked like at hearing them.

“What the hell?” Courfeyrac demands, fury in his usually jovial brown eyes. “That is so not okay. What did he look like?” He starts to yank off his gloves.

“Courf, no,” Joly says. “If you leave, you’re gonna get in trouble, and he’s already gone.”

“I don’t care!” Courfeyrac cries, slamming his hands down on the counter. Back at the sink where he has started working on dishes, Pierre gives the three of them an alarmed look, but a glare from Courfeyrac has him quickly studiously ignoring them again. “People can’t just talk that way!”

“I know,” Joly says placatingly. “Are you okay, Jehan?” Courfeyrac looks abruptly stricken that he didn’t ask that question first.

Jehan nods. “Just…shaken up. As if I didn’t hate working up here enough already.”

“You should tell Valjean,” Joly advises.

“What’s he going to do?” Jehan murmurs. “Like you said, the guy’s already gone.” And he really doesn’t relish the idea of having to explain the incident again to the manager, even though he knows Valjean will be sympathetic.

“He’s right,” Courfeyrac says, temper apparently better under control now. “It’s what we’re supposed to do, if you feel uncomfortable or unsafe at all.”

“I can come with you,” Joly says encouragingly, “since I was here when it happened. Even if I didn’t hear it. Sorry, I should have been paying more attention.”

“It’s okay, you were busy. Besides, it’s not like we expected some pervert to come in. And you need to stay up here, in case anyone comes.”

“We’re going; come on,” Courfeyrac insists, taking a step backward toward the office.

Jehan takes a breath and follows. As soon as he has moved around the prep table into the little hall at the back of the store, Courfeyrac takes his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Jehan gives him a small smile.

They stop outside the office, and Jehan knocks on the doorframe. Valjean looks up the computer. “Yes?”

The whole sorry story spills out again. Jehan is ashamed to hear his voice wobbling as he repeats the exact words a second time. Courfeyrac squeezes his hand supportively but stays mercifully silent as he finishes.

Valjean frowns deeply as he considers. “You did the right thing in removing yourself from the situation,” he says after a moment. “What that man did was highly inappropriate. Obviously, contrary to the saying, the customer is _not_ always right. But I’m also proud that you didn’t respond in a way that was out of line yourself.”

“Thank you,” Jehan whispers.

“There should be a way of punishing people like that,” Courfeyrac mutters. “It’s just, just…” He can’t seem to find the right word.

“Indeed,” Valjean cuts in gravely. “Had the person in question been one of my employees, it would most certainly be a write-up, if not a straight-up dismissal. However, he is not, and at this point, there is really nothing I can do. You’re all right, Jehan?”

The boy nods silently.

“All right. Would you like to spend the rest of your shift in the kitchen?” Valjean offers.

“If you’d let me, that would be really nice,” Jehan murmurs, relief lapping at him. The thought of having to face more customers, wondering if every one is going to pull something like that, makes his skin crawl.

“That’s perfectly fine. It’s late enough that Joly should be able to handle register and cleaning at the same time. Tell him to come get me if he needs help.” Jehan and Courfeyrac start to turn away when he calls after them, “I’m glad you told me. If something like this ever happens again, don’t hesitate to come get me immediately. I’m here for you, all right?”

Jehan nods but doesn’t say anything else. He hadn’t even thought to get Valjean while the trucker was still there. His only thought had been to get away from the situation, flight chosen by default because he is anything but a fighter.

“I would have beaten that guy to a pulp,” Courfeyrac swears as they take their places by the grill and pull on clean sets of gloves. “How _dare_  he talk to you like that.”

Warmth floods Jehan’s heart at the thought of Courfeyrac as his white knight. If anything good has come out of this situation, it’s getting to see his boyfriend’s protectiveness, another facet of how much he really cares for him. Jehan knows he’s giving him this dopey, lovestruck look, but he can’t bring himself to care. He also knows Courfeyrac notices from the way he catches his eye and grins, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around him in a quick squeeze, regardless of the sanitation guidelines they’re breaking.

“I know you would have.”


End file.
